Gavin's Song (Road to Salvation A Last Rider's Trilogy 1)

“You want the phone, you motherfuckers can come and get it,” Gavin snarled.

Memphis’s lips curled up in a sarcastic smile. “I’m not stupid.”

“I don’t know about that. You’re dumb enough for me to find out you’ve been switching the patents into your name. If anything happens to me, Viper will know it’s you.”

Memphis kept the gun trained on him, while Vincent went to the doorway and looked outside worriedly.

“Viper doesn’t know shit.” Memphis’s grin turned triumphant. “I’m still breathing, aren’t I? I found the letter in your glove box. Damn, Gavin, I should have been the one who joined the SEALs. I’ve known every move you made in the last month. The only thing you’ve done right is kept your mouth closed to Lucky. The brother won’t even know you saved his life, but we will, won’t we?”

Gavin frowned. He thought Memphis was about to kill him, yet the way he was talking it sounded as if he had other plans.

“Hurry up!” Vincent moved from the doorway to Memphis’s side. “We need to get out of here.”

“Playtime’s over, Gavin. Put your hands behind your back.”

“No.”

“Just remember, I tried to do this the easy way. Go ahead.”

Gavin immediately recognized what Bedford took out of his coat pocket. His only option left was to charge Memphis.

He was an inch away from him, before falling to his knees then to his side, twitching.

“Tase him again,” Memphis barked. “I want to make sure he’s not able to break my neck when I put the cuffs on him.”

Gavin felt another shock of electricity flow through his body, helpless and unable to do anything but lie on the floor as his body rebelled against the current.

“That’s enough.” Memphis handed the gun to Bedford. “If he touches me, shoot him.”

Rushing to where he was lying on the floor, Memphis jerked his hands behind his back before the charge wore off. When feeling started coming back, Gavin tried to twist out of Memphis’s hold, only to have a boot press down on his back, holding him immobile and unable to stop Memphis from handcuffing him. When he was done, Memphis flipped him onto his back.

“You’re a dead man.” It was Memphis’s only warning.

Pressing his back for traction, Gavin swung his legs up, circling Memphis’s head in a headlock. Twisting his hips and using the strength in his legs, he forced Memphis down to the floor. Tightening his thigh muscles, he began cutting off Memphis’s oxygen.

Memphis flailed like a fish, trying to break his hold on him by trying to pry his legs off. Gavin tightened his legs even tighter as he stared up at Bedford, waiting for his reaction, and praying that Memphis would pass out or he could break his fucking neck before Bedford reacted.

He was prepared for another current or for Bedford to shoot him, but he didn’t do either. Instead, he rushed them and brought the side of the gun down on Gavin’s forehead. Despite the pain, he refused to release Memphis, but it was too intense. Writhing in agony from the hit at the side of his eye socket, Memphis gained his freedom.

Incapable of movement, he endured Memphis’s kicks to his ribs, knocking the air out of him. Memphis jerked the gun away from Bedford. “If you weren’t worth more money to me alive, I would blow your fucking head off.” Gasping for breath, Memphis kicked him again. “Get your shit together,” he ordered Bedford. “Make sure you don’t leave any of his crap behind.”

Gavin was trying to regain the breath Memphis kept knocking out of his lungs.

“Got it. Let’s go.”

Memphis cruelly kicked him once more before lowering his face to stare down into his eyes. “Nighty-night.”

Flashing starbursts exploded behind his eyes, making him senseless to what was going on around him. His jumbled, pain-riddled thoughts couldn’t bring one name or deity to call out to as Memphis lifted him over his shoulder, the jarring motion finally causing the unconsciousness that Memphis had been trying so hard to achieve.

* * *

It was another jarring motion that jolted him back to awareness. Keeping his eyes closed, he listened to the sounds surrounding him while assessing the pain in his body. His head hurt like a mother, his ribcage wasn’t much better, and he no longer felt the handcuffs around his wrists. There was a cold, stone floor under him, and he still only had on the thin T-shirt and shorts he had worn to bed.

His mental evaluation of his injuries over, and not hearing any sounds, he raised his eyelids. He was in complete darkness. There wasn’t a speck of light giving him any indication of where he was.

He wanted to rise up, but he knew it would set off the pounding of his head even worse. So, using minimal movements, he levered himself up onto his elbow, biting back the groan of pain from his ribs. It was everything he could do to remain silent as he finally managed to sit upright. He wanted to get to his feet, but he didn’t think his body could handle the strain.